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Spriha Kant Apr 2021
I have always been reluctant for stepping towards the path of expertise because the kid inside my heart laughs out innocuously on my foibles which I prefer over demeaning.

Every step I take towards living,
I'm stepping away from my calling
I'm stepping everywhere
end up getting nowhere
in search of stepping stones,
to move up the ladder
without grasping the idea
that these stones,
in due time,
will be steps I climb
up the downstair.
Am I trying to climb the ladder to nowhere?
Am I stepping up or down?
Am I kicking myself around?
To speak of my pains is my release from which.
It is not merely my drudgery within the muds of self-wallowing.
It is an awakening when I read my own words and learn who I am in that moment.
It is a point from which to move on, a stepping stone.
Satsih Verma Jun 2018
You drop
Your body and become. "I"

Howling will rise
from spinal curvature.
Wolf was running in circles.

The carnivore would
never smell the roach.
He wants only the pith.

You snare a parakeet
to share the pain. "I" became
"You" in a trap. Still knowing the self,
was important.

I burn in your prayer.
I am the sea, and I was
the setting sun.

The mother poppy cries
for the family.
How the sky will cover
the orange moon?
Yanamari Jun 2018
And every step
Towards you
Is a leap
Full of laughter
Light on my heart

And every step
Towards you
Is sped as I land
Back onto earth
Back into my life

And every step
Towards you
Is rebalancing myself
As I try to understand
What it is that I am doing
As I gaze out to the empty horizon

And every step,
Towards you...
Is full of worry
Every next step reconsidered
Every next foothold possibly
The uncertainty in each step...?
Whispers and whispers
Of silence
Whispers and whispers
For warmth
Whispers and whispers...
the bittersweet silent story of my life age
fifty and nine automatically rebroadcast
     in indelible (yet never washed out) beige
indistinguishably linkedin, when counting
     the last three of seventy somber orbitz,
     signify torturous custom made cage

whose darkening shades of gray
housed a weakened Harriet Harris,
     an ashen corpse lay
no doubt a grown changeling dust play

a cruel trick, and soul of me mum didst slay,
so...tis with great difficulty aye write this poem today
cathartic to brush off self denunciation,
     an albatross that dust way

heavily incriminating, ostracizing this mind of mine,
recurring every year comb May fourth a line
codifying, delineating, earmarking,  
     and doth likened
     to elementary school Boyer

     as in  Henry Kline
no less painful reflection plus unavoidable,
     hence this middle aged man lets feelings incline
toward self expression this anniversary
     revisiting re: deign

upon memorializing general up beat
defiance at death of thine late mother,
     where disease rabidly did eat
ting her til she expired,
     this singular married heir
     set himself a writing fete

wordlessly mouths never expressed greet
unbeknownst reeders gleaning my sentiments heat
ting recollected adieu bid prior,
     whence she angrily wanted to meet
that accursed nemesis
     against healthiness and repeat
cherished apothegm,
     that existence offers no second act
as she relinquished slipping tenuous weak bract
leave ving ever fainter grip upon cracked
pommel of mortality, an immutable fact
thence black knight denounced, pounced, hijacked
trounced unannounced, vanquished, lacked

motive to rival nixed, extinguished sputtering pact
fast fading joie de vivre unspoken,
     where death rattle racked
personal def tone accentuation tracked
subsequent self castigation,
     excoriation nearly whacked

me to Timbuktu rebuking extolling bless
sing experienced from
     this sole son for thirteen years, aye confess
when the inimitable Harriet Harris

     devastatingly, grievously, inconsolably,
     got hexed, issued jilted livingsocial, a less
son learned to late, how maddeningly mess
say yon nick lee infuriated, not accepting press

sing ill fate, nor countenancing fatal injustice,
refusing to curtsy fiendish inxs did ****
her off (poisoned scorpion sting) remiss
cheekily peppering psyche as if Swiss

cheese, a once spunky Arthur Murray shored
dance instructor, who scored
door prize in the guise of thee less torte sured
near nonagenarian papa, where meanness poured

from grim mortal outlook parlayed moored
deadly reaper, quashed, ruined as lord
stole, sacred maternal tribal nurse, unfairly did hoard
final precious seconds unexpectedly meant un explored
positive rapport forever undergirded "door"

closed to resolve ambivalence with venerable bead
did association between
     kith and kin, unfairly
     dead poet society lettered deed
wrested a vibrant life despite zest that freed
a vibrant gal to coast along dialed up esprit

     de corps spirit to live, yet greed
of metastatic cancer upended lead,
where mind over matter, sans power
     in positive thinking rubric and plead
ding didst **** last ditch homeopathic screed

ambitions *******, thus giving up the ghost
wracking sadness, sinking sorrow spilling most
lee tears of loss, among family, fellow Unitarians
of the Thomas Paine Fellowship
     included with your obituary post.
chaziyer Oct 2017
I will not be the hands that whisper across your skin--

the weathered kisses and cracked lips.

My caged heart is not your drum.

I will not be your stepping stone--

your weeping willow.

Little Azaleah Aug 2017
I see you have walked away in short notice,
Nice to know how much I worth to you.
Just another easy target,
Another girl in the list,
Another heart to play with.
I shouldn't have let you in
in the first place,
I should have known we are just a detour off the main road.

{ e.i }
neth jones Mar 2016
becomes my Oedipus
Restlessness is my Vein
I spy from the Windows
upon the Exterior ;
It's Humid, Night and Rain
I pave my Thoughts ;
all bark and froth
I Pound in Drinks
It Powers tight my Bellows
I Hound the Clock
My energy thrives out a fan of nerves
I create an idea of what's soon to be
A plan of a posable culture
forms flossy in my Tide
(as the Night Out steps up)
It Bites firm in my mind

I stride across the threshold
Betraying nothing
Of the Savage I've put together
Slough Suited in neat Disguise.
I'm a stepping stone that was stepped a few hundred too many times
You have to forgot about implementing Jewels on me
I want to be a pedestal
Something that's seen as higher
Because i'm more than your lyre of heavy weight objects
We're all worth more than what we think
But every now and then i don't think
And that's my my biggest vice
If Miami was even paying attention.
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